


isn't that what friends are for (even if we used to be more)

by biannabeth



Series: a million moments i might want to forget [2]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Christmas fic, F/M, Kinda, No Beta, Not, PTSD, Pining, Post-Canon, im lazy, im sorry?, mostly - Freeform, new years fic, they’re just hurting, two idiots in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:28:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28366923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biannabeth/pseuds/biannabeth
Summary: "They say time's a healer."There was a bitterness to her voice that he was all too familiar with. He thinks that if they only share one thing from now on, it will be their resentment of their duty to the gods, the system which churned out an army of children and turned them sour on one on another, on the family."But you're the only ambrosia I know." The whisper had passed his lips before he'd thought twice about his words and Annabeth is looking at him through glistening eyes.Instead of running, she just smiles at him. It's pinched and sad and not at all what he remembered it being, but it's there and that's enough for now. "Careful then," Annabeth tips her head, knocking into his shoulder. He hadn't realised they were sat so close. "we don't wanna burn up too soon."(or percabeth break up after college and the pieces just haven’t fallen together since)
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson
Series: a million moments i might want to forget [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2136726
Comments: 4
Kudos: 66





	isn't that what friends are for (even if we used to be more)

**Author's Note:**

> i spent absolutely ages on this and it didn’t turn out the way i wanted but i’m actually gonna cry if i stare at it any longer so imma just post it anyway 
> 
> enjoy?
> 
> (title is from Partners in Crime by Finneas)

**MARCH**

She held off as long as she could, she really did. Eight months go by. Eight long months and though she knows better than that antsy buzz in her brain, she just needs to check. Social media updates and stalking his moms facebook page don't cut it after eight months - especially not after last time.

That's how she ends up in this mess, stood poised in the stairwell of his apartment building. He might not even be in, no need to knock, just turn and go and she can say she tried. It's not until she's turned around that she realises her mistake. If he's not in the apartment, then he's out. And if he's out, then he's likely to be coming back. Unless something happened, like last time. That really is the last thing she needs.

Inevitably, they collide as she turns a corner of the stairwell. The Fates always did have it out for them. He's so much sturdier than she remembers, much like the last time they reunited after so long in New Rome and the impact as she ran into a hug hadn't even made him shudder. The bags in his arms fall to the floor and he's down in an instant scooping up all the groceries.

Go now, she thinks, say your apologies and go now while his heads bowed. While you don't have to look him in the eyes. You know he's alive, what more do you want?

Gods, is this really what she had become?

"I'm sorry."

Her feet are glued to the floor, her old, worn Doc Martens weighing her down. Out of the corner of her eyes, she watches his head lift up at the sound of her voice but she won't - can't - look back at him. They must stay frozen like that for at least a minute in complete silence, an echo of what used to be and, _fuck_ , isn't this how it all started? Ended? Him on his knee and her unable to look at him in the face.

"Annabeth?"

Somehow she manages to tear her eyes from the suspicious, dark patch of wallpaper that she was pretending to have interest in and to his eyes. That color. There's an ache in her chest just looking at him and she's chewing her lip so hard she thinks she can taste blood. His mouth is moving though no sound seems to come out and her first thought is that he looks like a fish.

Eventually, he manages to speak up. "What? What are you- Why? How are you here?" There's tears building in his eyes and she winces, figuring she must look something similar.

The question that always haunts her when she misses him is 'why did we break up?', but she banishes the thought as soon as it appears. She had her reasons, they both did, but when the scars reopen and wounds feel fresh, it's hard to see the whole picture. And when he looks at her like that? She needs to get out of here.

"I just had to check." She manages. "I'm sorry, I'll be out of your way."

There's a mess of groceries on the floor so she has to be careful of her footing, tiptoeing over a dozen bottles of blue food dye, deodorant and a few ready meals. She's halfway down the stairs when she hears him again, making her stop instinctively.

"Are you okay?"

Such a simple question and yet she thinks she might fall apart should she try to reply. The obvious answer was no. She'd put her turtleneck on inside out this morning, distracted by the idea of him being missing once again. She forgets to eat lunch on most days, something she never did when his metabolism required an ungodly amount of calories. And she couldn't remember the last time she'd been able to sit by the river or ocean without tears building up. But Annabeth was never one to show weakness, never one to provide ammunition for her enemies.

But this was Percy. And regardless of their relationship status, he was not her enemy.

He must have interpreted her silence as an answer because he's speaking again before she can fathom a reasonable response.

"It's his birthday, right?" Annabeth forces herself to meet his eyes, watching his shoulders shrug in the shy way they used to when he was just a boy. When they were just kids and one measly square of ambrosia could fix all of their pains. "I'm sorry, I know it used to upset you."

It hangs in the air, an indication of unknowing. Does it still bother her? Frankly, it hadn't even crossed her mind. What day was it?

It hits her like an ocean wave on a stormy night, like she can sense it approaching but when it hits, it's so much deeper, more thrashing and persistent than she thought it would be. She's suffocating in the memories and his eyes are still like whirlpools pulling her in and _she can't breathe_. How had she gone from having them both to having neither. Hadn't she made her choice?

Of course she had, and the man she had chosen was stood right there watching her with so much concern woven into his features that she can't fucking look at him. Not like this, not now. Not when she had lost them both. She wanted him, she had chosen him and yet they had both slipped from her grasp and - shit - she feels like she's drowning.

Her vision blurs behind tears and suddenly she's back there, stumbling in the darkness and searching for him. But as it always has been between them, he's by her side in an instant.

Gods, it had been so long since he'd held her like this that she had almost forgotten the way his arms looped so perfectly around her waist, the way her chin rests on the slope of his shoulder, the way he always knew exactly what to say - even when she was too dazed to hear. Her heart hammers in her chest but he holds her together so easily that she can't help herself and stays for a moment longer than she should. Their threads have been intertwined, sewn together and twisted in as many ways as she could comprehend, but nothing hurts more than a momentary crossing of paths.

**MAY**

It's unusually chilly for spring so it's hardly surprising to see her so bundled up but merely her presence is enough to shake him. No one warned him that she would be here, though no one had given him reason to think that she wouldn't be. Their monthly reunions had soon become few and far between as the group drifted apart. Percy wasn't certain he'd been in a room with both Hazel and Piper since the final battle with Gaia. He knows for a fact that Piper meets with Annabeth more than with him but to have everyone in a room together is overwhelming enough without her showing up. He wasn't going to pretend that he wanted to avoid her, of course he didn't want to avoid her. But it hurt. Seeing her appear in knee high socks, a tennis skirt and her extra thick coat - a combination he certainly would have teased her for last year - practically tears his chest in two.

Fortunately, or unfortunately for the pain already searing in his lungs, he is the first thing her eyes focus on. Her eyes are like ice, frosty and guarded, but the startle in them is what sends a chill down his spine. She didn't expect him here either.

Piper's apartment, though apparently only temporary, is decked out with twice the decor of the store his mom had dragged him to the other day and has plenty of space for them to all pile in, including two couches and a misshapen beanbag that Leo sinks into dramatically. It feels almost as though the group are picking sides. Annabeth tucks herself into one side of a couch so Percy resigns himself for sitting on the opposing one, not wanting to make her feel any more awkward that she likely already does. Piper doesn't even hesitate to loop an arm over Annabeth's shoulder and sits beside her, similarly Frank perches besides Percy. Jason and Hazel hesitate. Nico and Reyna emerge from another room, arms piled with snacks. It feels like a battle. Percy versus Annabeth. He hates it.

"I'm gonna get a drink. Anyone want anything? Jason? Another Coors?" He hoists himself up and takes a couple of empty glass bottles from the coffee table towards what he presumes is a kitchen area and barely even registers the replies. Of course, that is until she speaks. Gods above, if hers is the only voice he ever hears again then Percy's not sure he'll have the fight to be mad about it.

"You drink now?"

The room falls into silence and he catches Leo lower his gaze as he sinks further into the beanbag. Demigods weren't half dramatic, no wonder there were so many tales of past heroes.

When his gaze falls to her, she looks so irrationally small next to Piper who sits on the arm of the couch. Her expression is almost unreadable. Almost. But he's always been good at deciphering her. Her usual inquisitive look masks what he can only assume is hurt. She knows his aversion to alcohol all too well and he's never had more than a beer to save face when she was there to make him feel safe. She's here now, but it was hardly the reassurance he was after.

"You know I don't make a habit of it." He replies, tearing his attention away from her.

There's a shuffling behind him where the group are presumably finding their seats but he fails to notice that Hazel has followed him out, a testament to her stealth or his lack of awareness. She's blocking his path to the sodas purposefully and all he can bring himself to do is offer her an apologetic smile.

Hazel places a hand on his arm. "Oh, Percy, I know it hurts." As far as he was aware, Hazel was the only one who knew both of their stories and therefore their feelings about the situation, but she wouldn't betray either of them in telling the other. She'd always been one to encourage communication with things like this, it seems nothing had changed since he'd met her five years ago.

He's pushing back the tears with his palm before he can hold himself back, breath short and sharp. Hazel wraps herself around him but she's not much taller than she used to be and nothing holds a candle to what he needs. Who he needs. Not for the first time today, he finds himself cursing the very reason they aren't together.

He always had been so impulsive and it was the last thing she needed, not when she was worried the world would fall apart at her feet once again. He knew. She was so cautious to let herself go, so scared that he would be like everyone else. And yet the way he thought to prove her wrong was to act on an impulse and pray for her answer to be yes. Somehow he had managed to ignite their intermittent embers into a forest fire and destroyed what little comfort she had in their relationship. So while they both had their faults, he had been the final push.

He doesn't know what a panic attack feels like, but he's had his fair share of panicked frenzies as they're what keep young demigods alive after all. This isn't like that. There's no rush of adrenaline that keeps him on his feet and he hadn't even realised that he had slid to the floor until Hazel repositions herself besides him.

They sit there for as long as possible, until Frank comes in with his furrowed brows and a quizzical look. The three of them emerge as discretely as possible - which is rather the opposite when Frank remains as clumsy as ever - and despite the glances from his friends, Percy does his best to avoid hers. It hurts more than looking for it.

**JULY**

New York is a busy place, so she doesn't think much of passing through for a coffee before she meets Rachel. She had of course considered the fact that she might run into him again. Running into Sally, however, hadn't occurred to her at all.

"Annabeth," She greets with her arms wide open. The length of time between their last encounter and now had been ever increasing and though Sally always made an effort to reach out, Annabeth was a master at avoiding a parental figure. "Oh, sweetheart." With just a second of watching the other's guarded stance, Sally gathers her up in her arms and is raking her fingers through her blonde hair.

"Mommy?" A small voice calls from a table.

Gods, she wasn't prepared. She was so unprepared. Rationally, she knows time has passed. Nearly a year, to be exact. But a year on Percy was nothing. A year on Estelle...

She must be five now, at least a foot taller with dark ringlets hanging down past her shoulders. There's a tooth missing in her grin which makes Annabeth ache for the year she'd missed. Stella was as much a part of her family as any of her biological siblings and losing a year of watching her grow up was an unexpected slap in the face.

"Bethy!" The little girl squealed, throwing herself around Annabeth's legs. "I missed you! Did you see my dance recital? Daddy filmed it so that Percy could see. Show her, mommy, please?"

Somewhat selfishly, Annabeth picks up Estelle and holds her close, face buried in her hair so that her watery eyes were masked. "Hey, angelfish." The old nickname makes her lip quiver. "I missed you too."

Sally smiles sympathetically at the two of them before tipping her head to the counter. "Can I get you a coffee, Annabeth? Have you got time for a catch up?"

Unsure of whether to be grateful or resentful for having her own plans, Annabeth winces. "I'm sorry, I'm on the way to see Rachel. Maybe some other time?"

The barista passes her order over the counter and so she helps Estelle back onto her feet. There's a moment when the three of them just seem to stare at each other until Annabeth squeezes Estelle's hand in hers and kisses Sally's cheek, wishing them both the best as she makes her way to Rachel's.

It sinks in a little bit, what she had truly said no to that day. She had been so worried about Percy slipping from her grasp that she had frightened herself into hiding away, as per usual. She'd let go of Percy and with him, every ounce of whatever family she'd had in his company. Sally was, in some strange kind of way, the only mother she'd every truly had. Paul had shared many more deep discussions and debates with her than her own father had and although her brothers were distant to no fault of their own, it seems she enjoys the company of Estelle more than theirs. It almost makes her feel guilty. Guilty to the point of envy. And the worst part is that she's envious of herself, of the family that she abandoned. Even before they abandoned her.

**JULY**

Annabeth never really thought much of her birthday. She'd spent her 17th somewhere in the pits of hell, which sort of put a damper on the ABBA rendition Piper had discussed serenading her with on some dark night when the two would dodge harpies in favor of each other's company. Her apartment is measly enough as it is and so the card from her dad and his family and the remnants of a rainbow from her kitchen sink in which she had Iris Messaged the camp seem to fit her expectations. She's too old to hide away in the Athena cabin. Too old to go to camp, really. After her years in New Rome, she'd resigned herself to managing in the real world now. Besides, her 22nd birthday wasn't anything special. Not like last year.

It wasn't that she was materialistic, she reminded herself, quite the opposite actually. She'd spent most birthdays just reading in bed, then there was the one with Thalia and Luke on the run, a tray bake and a rare happy memory. From then, she'd spent them at camp with little more than a campfire song and a day free from her cabin duties. Until Percy. And then every birthday since then he had never failed to make her feel special. And fuck she'd only gone and ruined everything they had. Everything they had built. Nearly ten years, she had known him. She'd always wanted to build something permanent and yet she'd lost the most permanent thing she ever could've hoped for.

In her silent contemplation, there's a knock on the door. She might've missed it if she had anyone over or anything to do but those scenarios hardly matter now and so she opens the door without too much thought.

She never did get used to the way his eyes shone when they met hers.

"Figured you'd be alone for the day and just wanted to make sure you were okay." Is the explanation he offers when she stares at him, stunned. He has the audacity to look equally as flustered at the very least as he passes her a gift bag. "From all of us." Annabeth drinks in the sight of him while she can, hair wild and unkempt and lips pursed, hands in pockets. Holy Hephaestus, has he always looked this damn good or did she just miss him?

Should she invite him in? It felt like a necessity but she wasn't sure she could stand it, it would surely hurt too much. Though she did need to open her mouth and say something or the two of them would just stand and stare at each other. No. She should thank him, because that was the polite thing to do.

Her arms were around his shoulders before she could help herself. Call it desperation but she'd missed him and if this was all of him that she could get then so be it, she'll make the most of it. Percy, bless every part of his soul, didn't so much as question her and instead held her tight. She had a strange feeling they were in the same boat, both falling to pieces thanks to her prideful decisions. She had felt too reliant, too comfortable. It wasn't something she was used to and so she had pulled away. And her pride had been their downfall once again.

They're clinging to each other like lifelines, anchors. Through old force of habit, one arm snakes from his neck to his waist and thumbs at his old mortal point. He shivers under her fingers and suddenly she remembers what passed between them and pulls back.

"Gods, I- shit, Percy, I'm sorry." She's backed away from him enough to catch his dazed expression.

If she hadn't have known him so well, she would've thought Percy was being entirely truthful when he muttered, "Don't mention it, it's alright."

Once she's managed to take a breath, she's able to address him a bit more civilly, set her emotions aside and all that. "Thank you," Annabeth nods to the bag in her hand. "for dropping by. I've missed you." It's an understatement, but it's something.

"I missed you too. I.. uh, I don't want to impose. I'll leave you to it." Percy bows his head, ducking out of the doorway. "Happy birthday, Annabeth."

The door swings closed behind him and she screws her eyes shut for one, two, three. A breath. Eventually she's able to make her way back to the counter. The gift bag is opened almost immediately - any attempt to welcome more of the Jackson-Blofis family into her life, although she had just shut the door on one of them - and a takeaway box of blue cookies are a more than welcome sight. Alongside it was a drawing from Stella, far more legible than the last piece of artwork she had from her, a letter and a wrapped parcel. She recognises the familiar scrawl of her name on that letter so she opts to leave it until her vision is clearer.

The parcel is wrapped tidily in what she can only assume is Paul's patient handiwork so she's careful not to tear the paper as she reveals a small, square cardboard box. Her heart thuds with déjà vu but she casts the memory aside and opens it.

Inside is a bracelet woven from white, grey and gold threads and decorated with numerous beads and charms; a book, a star, a heart, a seashell. Despite the pang in her chest, she ties it around her wrist and revels in the breathlessness that sears through her.

Now for the letter. Annabeth attempts to mentally prepare herself for wading her way through his chicken scratch handwriting, something difficult enough to read without dyslexia.

_Wise Girl,_

_Happy birthday. I know it's not your favorite day but you still deserve a good one. Please look after yourself and stay safe._

_All my love always,_

_Percy_

_P.S. I miss you_

There's a scribble running through the last sentence, though it's uncovered enough for it to still be legible. Somehow he's managed to trigger her waterworks in 30-or so words and she finds herself rather thankful that he wrote them down instead of telling her to her face. 'All my love always,'? As if she didn't feel guilty enough for putting him through this. Here's the reminder that the man you're hopelessly in love with is still as selfless as always, despite everything you put him through. Fuck, if they were only the slightest bit better at communicating then maybe this would've been over months ago.

Annabeth knows that's not how it works though. She was frightened, she still is in a way. They were so together that they were starting to rely on each other too much. He couldn't sleep without her and she couldn't find a way out of a panic attack without him and all she'd ever wanted was independence. Love and independence, not one at the expense of the other.

But when her biggest fear was him leaving like everyone else, at least she had proof that her logic had just been irrational.

With a decisive nod, she makes the conscious decision to visit him on his birthday. Not to start anything. Just to see him. She wanted to see him. And if he would let her then what did she have to lose?

**AUGUST**

Getting his hopes up that she might visit probably wasn't his best idea, but a guy had to be optimistic. The belief that maybe she might show up with some well-wishes was the only thing that kept him from going back _there_. He'd discussed with Paul (who made a surprising efficient therapist) that there didn't mean the ' _down there_ ' that it used to mean, but more of the mindset. It peaked in the summer months, when he could track every day on a calendar to some kind of life threatening event. The build up to Annabeth's birthday had been particularly difficult this year when he was spending it alone without her to lean on, but his birthday didn't exactly invite happy memories either.

His mom, as loving as always, did her best to keep his mind occupied, visiting on the way back from dropping Estelle at daycare with a hamper of blue sweets and savouries and some repair tape to go on the water pipe he had recently destroyed. Unable to stay too long, she planted a kiss on his head and promised they'd go out for dinner as a family soon.

Grover had sent him a package earlier in the week but he had been impatient and opened it the moment it arrived, so once all the catch-up calls and Iris Messages were over, he's left staring blankly at the window to the fire escape. Alive at twenty-two. Percy hadn't thought he'd get to see the day.

He doesn't expect her at all before at least six thirty, he still has her work timetable committed to memory, but there's a knock on the door at midday that sends Percy's hopes up and he trips over himself trying to get to the door and look casual (it turns out to be one of his coworkers but he does the exact same when there's another knock an hour later and this time his excitement isn't misplaced).

"Annabeth," He breathes, desperately hoping she doesn't hear the desperation in his voice. They already know they're not over each other but the last thing she deserves is a painful reminder.

"Happy birthday."

A slim paper bag is thrust towards him, plain white and decorated haphazardly with the same stars she'd scrawl on the cuffs of her jeans - one continual line to all five points of the star, leaving it slightly lopsided. Her smile is tight but it's there and that's something. Percy's head spins, searching for ideas to keep her as close as possible without being too forward or overbearing. While he thinks, his thumb tucks under the sticker pinning the opening of the bag down and peers inside.

"It's a Native American dreamcatcher, charmed with something or other so that it holds the bad thoughts at bay." He raises an eyebrow, leaving her with reason to explain further. How to make Annabeth more at ease: give her the opportunity to share knowledge. "Think like a pensieve from Harry Potter. I found it in the attic at camp on my last visit, figured it would ease the memories or whatever."

Admiring it, he hooks his finger through the loop and lets the beads and feathers swing. "And you're not using it?"

From the corner of his eye, he sees a blonde mop of hair shake from side to side. "It was never me that had the trouble sleeping." Head shooting up to look at her, there's something of an understanding that passes between them. They were partners in everything, sure, maybe not in life anymore but they were still partners. Though he already knew she would be there for him as he would for her, the demonstration was reassuring.

"Well," His breath shakes, uncertain of what to say. "thank you. For this, for dropping by. Can I get you a coffee? Can we talk? Or do you need to get back to work?"

Surprise flashes across her features and he can't work out which question caused it, because he knew her work schedule or because he wanted her company?

"I left early, told the boss I needed a mental health day, which I do. Summers are always the hardest." Her words are lined with truth and he hates that he can read her tone so well, all it does is make him worry. "And yeah, I think I'd like to talk. I think we could both do with a catch up."

After so long without talking, he's almost shocked that they manage to hold a conversation for the three hours that they do. Then again, he's also not. They fit so well together and if he let his mind drift away then he could almost pretend that nothing had happened. But it had. Who was he to forget that?

He watches her intently now, the way her fingers curl so tightly around the steaming mug of coffee, the way her legs swing under her stool, the way she looks at anything besides him though he can't look at anything besides her. It's a little creepy, he must admit to himself. He's noticed that her hair is a muted pink at the ends as though she'd box dyed it a while ago, but her curls seem as springy as ever. There's a rip on her jeans that has expanded past it's original intention and she thumbs at the elastic over the opening delicately and fuck he knows she's gorgeous but this is torture.

"How're you holding up?" Percy redirects the conversation before they can turn it into a slander-session of all of the gods wrongdoings. "Have the panic attacks eased at all?"

This is where it gets more serious. It was never easy for either of them after their years of heroism but no painful memory haunts them quite the way that that place does. He sees it at night, in the darkness beneath his eyelids when his throat closes up until he feels like he's breathing in the toxic air of that foul place. But Annabeth sees it in everything. They'd spent four years together after the event and so he knows that it happens periodically, mostly when she's stressed or emotional but at any point if there's a trigger. Not to boost his ego or anything (it's hardly a boost because it's painful to think about) but without him there, he thinks she's probably had her fair share of attacks.

Sometimes he would have heard a scream from the next room and have to come running. All she'd done was scold her fingers under the faucet but then she was gone, back there besides the river of fire and at the mercy of all the monsters they had faced. Selfishly, Percy thinks she must be struggling without someone to hold her until she comes to, but he banished the thought the second her expression softens.

"They're worse now. More often, harder to get out of." Annabeth casts a sideways glance at him but theirs no accusation in it. "Sometimes I feel like I did this to myself, made it all worse because I couldn't comprehend getting something permanent."

Percy keeps his mouth shut and lets her talk, listening intently.

"I'm sorry, you know? I've said it before but the fall was my fault - don't look at me like that, you know it was my pride- and then with this too? All we had to cope with everything was each other and I tore it apart. My own pain I can manage but causing yours... that hurts more."

Feeling the need to help put her back together, Percy links his fingers with hers, prising them from her mug. It's the most they've touched since late last August. The feeling is hypnotic but he holds himself back. This is for her. Percy would gladly fall to a million pieces right by her side if the universe could promise they'd be build back together as one, but right now it isn't about him.

"Maybe we should do this more often..." He lets the sentence trail of the way hers had. "Call it group therapy if you'd like. No matter what happened with us, I'm always going to want to help you out. Besides, it's nice to talk to someone who understands." 

There's a second of hesitation when he thinks he might've lost her, forced something more on her too soon like last time, but then she nods gently and stretches her lips into a taut smile.

"I'd like that a lot."

**SEPTEMBER**

It becomes a bit of a habit. Hanging out with the ex you most definitely still have feelings for is probably not the most healthy coping mechanism but when have any of his decisions been healthy? That's how they end up on his couch on an almost weekly basis. They're watching some crap documentary about sea life but the commentary is inaccurate and the fish aren't cussing quite as much as usual so he's barely paying attention. The two of them tend to be quite comfortable to sit in silence unless they have a burning question or conversation piece but Percy doesn't feel quite as satisfied with that for today so he opens a can of worms that he knows will be hard to contain.

"Do you hate the gods? After everything that's happened, every quest, every battle, every death, do you hate them for what they put us through?"

"They say time's a healer."

There was a bitterness to her voice that he was all too familiar with. He thinks that if they only share one thing from now on, it will be their resentment of their duty to the gods, the system which churned out an army of children and turned them sour on one on another, on the family.

He feels so hopeless besides her, hyperaware of her company, of the way her eyes burn holes into his furniture. It should've been theirs together, something more to share. And yet the knowledge that for some reason - despite every mistake they made and everything that passed between them - she's here is enough to fill him with a tentative flicker of hope.

"But you're the only ambrosia I know."

The whisper had passed his lips before he'd thought twice about his words and Annabeth is looking at him through glistening eyes. Crap, he'd done it again. Got ahead of himself, too in his own feelings. The last thing he needed was to spook her and send her fleeing back to her own apartment.

Instead of running, she just smiles at him. It's pinched and sad and not at all what he remembered it being, but it's there and that's enough for now.

"Careful then," Annabeth tips her head, knocking into his shoulder. He hadn't realised they were sat so close. "we don't wanna burn up too soon."

**OCTOBER**

Rachel Elizabeth Dare certainly new how to throw a house party.

The first think that comes to Annabeth's attention are the costumes. She feels as though she's in some cliché high school movie, surrounded by numerous renditions of sexy animals in lacy lingerie or hot nurses in fitted scrubs and she swears that if she sees one more girl in a skin tight red dress with a devil horn headband then she might leave before she even says hello to Rachel. Feeling comparatively conservative in her costume - a short, green dress and some flimsy ballet flats - Annabeth makes short work of searching for her friend, making sure to stay out the way of all the party animals that are already tipsy before the hour gets late.

It's not exactly difficult to spot Rachel when her red hair is wild and free. Annabeth rolls her eyes when she spots her in a Merida costume yet again, for the third year in a row.

"I see we're venturing out with the costume, hmm?" She hums, swiping the red solo cup from Rachel's hand and taking a swig, wincing at the burn in the back of her throat.

Narrowing her eyes at her friend, Rachel just shrugs. "At least I'm recognisable. What are you supposed to be?"

"Tinkerbell." Annabeth huffs, tapping the bun piled high onto her head. "Only thing I could pull together at a moments notice."

The girl Rachel is sat with, a curvy girl with pin straight black hair and eyeliner sharp enough to rival Thalia's, scoffs and turns away leaving Annabeth looking at the back of her head. With a roll of her eyes, Rachel takes a hold of her arm and leads them away from the judgmental group.

"Don't mind them. Rich kids take Halloween way too seriously."

"And yet you pimp out your penthouse for them every year." Annabeth teases, raising an eyebrow.

It's easier to relax once there's alcohol in her system and a buzz of adrenaline running through her veins. The two of them sit on the balcony with their feet on the railing, knocking back a shot whenever they hear a pedestrian shout something indecent from down below. New York, the city that never sleeps and never stops cussing. She's had about half a dozen and is readying to down another when she hears some ungodly screech. One glance at Rachel confirms her suspicions. That thing was not human.

They make a mad dash to the roof of the building and Annabeth is growing increasingly grateful that she remembered to strap a dagger to her thigh before she left, especially as the cackles and screeches are getting louder. Despite being so high, there's still several floors above Rachel's and gods, she didn't used to be this out of shape. When they reach the top, Annabeth throws her arm across Rachel before she gets a chance to open the door.

"I'm not going to tell you to go, I'm not stupid enough to think you'll actually leave, but just be careful. It sounds like a small army out there and you don't have a weapon."

Rachel just smirks and peels her plastic bow and arrow from off her back. It'll do little to no damage but at the very least it could be a distraction, Annabeth supposes. Besides, she knew what Rachel could do with a hairbrush. They stand with their ears to the door for as long as they dare before she's certain that they need to go out there. Someone's in trouble. She hears a grunt that's all to familiar. What in the name of Hades is he doing here?

The door is open instantly and all of her instincts are telling her to wait, get intel, pinpoint enemy. But this is him and her heart always takes over her head when he's involved.

They've seen each other a lot in the last couple of months. Their bimonthly therapy sessions turned into weekly turned into frequent drop-ins whenever they'd had a difficult day. Their meetings had become gradually less awkward and they'd even managed a civilised dinner with Sally, Paul and Estelle (though somehow their close proximity only makes her miss him more).

Right now though, he's sauntering around the roof with the attention of what she estimates to be twenty or so empousa in their skimpy cheerleading uniforms. Conveniently, those outfits look like any typical Halloween costume tonight. She tries to do a headcount and notices the distinct lack of Kelli. They have no leader - well, they have the blonde sidekick, Sammi was it? - but without a true, defined leader, they lack their usual intimidation.

A plan hatched immediately, but she would need Percy. Pick off the few around the edges to lower their numbers while he held a distraction then take the rest out by surprise - be that a tidal wave from the water pump nearby or an ambush of the two of them fighting side by side.

She tipped her head discretely to get Rachel to follow her around the perimeter of the roof. Every time there was a stray empousa that had drifted far enough from the group, Annabeth would slice it to pieces before it had a chance to scream. Between the two of them, they'd managed to vaporise six of the bratty monsters, but the seventh caused a fuss.

The victim, a slim-built monster with a wavy brown bob, lets out the same bone-chilling screech they had heard earlier and turns to face Annabeth. At once, the gaze of approximately fifteen empousa (and Percy) all falls on her. Sure, she wanted them gone but she wasn't stupid enough to let them know that, not when Percy had probably set up a cover, so her dagger was hidden under her armpit immediately. The hilt catches her skin and makes her curse herself for choosing this costume instead of an elaborate cloak.

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself. I just wanted to take a look at your hair." The voice she puts on is exaggerated and high pitched, playing to whatever predispositions they had about reckless blonde girls that dressed as fairies for Halloween. "I've been meaning to get mine dyed that color, see, and I wondered whether the cut would suit me too. What do you think?"

The two of them blink incredulously at each other while the cheerleaders all watch with bated breath. Unfortunately for Annabeth, her opponents nostrils flare and she has a split second to back up before she transforms into a fiery haired, teeth-baring donkey robot.

A situation plays out in a moment but she doesn't quite process anything except slashing and dodging until her and Percy are backed up against each other, weapons out as the enemy circled them. Somehow, she recognises what was the blonde empousa as she seems to have taken the commanding position. Menacingly, Sammi (that didn't sound right, Tammi?) licks her lips and stands to their side, eyes flicking between the two of them as they reflect the half a dozen flaming heads that remain.

"So, my handsome hero, you're betraying me and all of my friends for her?" Tammi gags, the rest of the empousa hissing besides her. "Josi could smell it on her from the start, the demigod in her. Your type always have an affinity for flocking together."

Her words sound so distasteful and accusing but Annabeth feels a flush of thankfulness for the boy at her back. Not once had he let her down.

Rachel's red hair shifted in the corner of her vision and she wrapped a hand around Percy's bicep as he reached out to her, a silent message of on my count. Truthfully, she had no idea what their mortal friend had planned but in recent years, she had learnt to put a little more trust in the people that cared about her. Rachel had gotten them out of situations like this before, she could handle it again. The redhead grins impishly and holds up her toy weapon as an explanation before firing it at an empousa across the roof from her. It's a pathetic shot but Annabeth realises that was perhaps the intention as it falls at the feet of three of them, momentarily distracting half of their numbers as they frown and look around in their confusion.

She takes their advantage in her stride and moves off of Percy, trusting that he will follow as she begins to tear up Tammi and her bodyguards. It's an anticlimactic fight, particularly because her and Percy were so used to this by now. He swipes through two of them with the ever-impactful riptide as she twists her dagger in the gut of the third while the remainder of the herd stand bewildered behind them. The last of them manage to make a swipe at Annabeth's thigh with something sharp - probably some weaponised jewellery - and kick their donkey legs at Percy, landing a hit to his stomach, but it's over quickly. The two of them stand on the roof staring at each other, chests heaving.

Rachel, to her credit, doesn't interrupt. Annabeth makes a mental note to both berate her and thank her for that.

"Nice fighting with you, Tink." Percy tips his head in the direction of her costume but his eyes zero in on the gash on her leg. There's a trickle of blood marking her shoe but she bought them from Target so she doesn't have it in her to care that they're ruined.

Watching him, she thinks it's as though he's resisting some kind of magnetic pull that tugs him towards her, towards caring for her.

She just shakes her head. "I'll bandage it up later, it'll be fine."

"Well, you can hardly stop the blood with those tiny little wings of yours. Here." Percy slips his jacket over his head in one swift motion and goes to offer it to her before realising how thick it actually was. "Um, I- I can, hold on-"

Before she can argue, he's unbuttoning his shirt and holy shit, he'd not slacked on the workouts in the last year. There's a bruise developing on his hip but she's pretending not to look so she just keeps quiet, certain that her pink cheeks will speak enough for her. Percy throws his shirt at her while he weaves his arms through his jacket again leaving her to puzzle at how to wrap her leg. The wound is deeper than she had first thought and so she definitely needs to stop the bleeding but she's reluctant to ruin his shirt.

He's fully dressed, thank the gods, when he goes to take the material off her, wrapping it tight around her thigh.

"You should ice that." The words are croaky as she speaks. "The bruise, I mean."

His grin manages to make her feel a little lighter and she shivers from the build up of adrenaline in her bones. He must take it to mean something else because his arm loops around her shoulder. "Come on, let's get you inside."

She might feel bad for leaving Rachel out on the roof but she catches her friends eye on the way to the door and sees her wink. Well, as long as she props the door open then she supposes Rachel won't complain. Besides, Percy's arm around her is intoxicating.

(And maybe the alcohol in her system makes her need him all the more.)

**NOVEMBER**

"Don't you look like a princess, angelfish!"

Estelle grins a toothy grin at Annabeth, twirling to show off her new Disney costume, her plastic heels click-clacking across the wooden floor of Percy's apartment. When Annabeth looks up, he's watching the two of them with a fond smile, likely reminiscing in the same way she was to when she was a part of their perfect little family.

"Do you like my make up?" The younger girl questions, fluttering her eyelashes to reveal a patchy pink eyeshadow. "Mommy let me borrow some but I'm not very good at it. I wanted to do Percy's makeup but you have to help me. Please, Bethy, please?" Estelle's baby seal eyes are able to rival her brothers, that's for sure. Throughout this conversation, her brother seems to be backing out of the room discretely and he presses a finger to his lips when she spots him leaving.

Oh, she wasn't letting him get away so easy.

"Well, princess, you better go and fetch your makeup kit because I'm sure Prince Percy would love a makeover!" His face is the definition of betrayal but Estelle's excitable squeal is enough to diminish any guilt she feels.

The end result is a picture (and she immortalises it as such). Percy looks adorable with a childish pout coated in bright red stripe of lipstick, pink circles of blusher on his cheeks and iridescent eyeshadow on that shimmers in the dim light of the evening. She had been reluctant in coming over tonight - babysitting Estelle together felt far too domestic after everything - but he had convinced her under the promise of it being their usual therapy session once they had put her to bed. And she's determined to have that conversation with him in this state. Heavy conversations were inevitably going to be easier when she could focus on the accidental over-lining of his lips.

"Oh, Prince Percy, you look beautiful!" Estelle coos at her brother, planting a tiara on his mess of hair. "Now you're ready for your wedding day!"

To his credit, he plays along to keep her entertained, nodding dutifully and smiling when she drapes a blanket over his head like a veil. Continuing whatever fairy-tale she was concocting, Annabeth is handed one of Percy's ties and then pushed towards him.

That's when she realises what's happening.

"Hello and welcome to the royal wedding!" Stella stands between the two of them and Annabeth has to question which one of them with be the one to crush her fantasy. "We are here today to see Prince Percy marry Princess Annabeth and live happily ever after!"

Their eyes meet and she can't help but wonder about what might have been if she'd have just said yes. He wouldn't be wearing that hideous eyeshadow, that's for sure, but she imagines he might look at her like he is now, like she'd designed her world for him, like he'd give up immortality for her. Like they're each other's mortal points. Like they're meant to be.

The moment stops abruptly with Estelle's announcement of "Now kiss!"

"Okay, Stella, bedtime." He deflects, scooping her up with one swift motion and hauling her to his spare room. The sudden lack of energy in the room leaves Annabeth with a chill and an ache in her chest so she pulls Percy's makeshift veil into her lap for warmth.

From around the corner, she can hear Estelle's whines about brushing her teeth and washing off her makeup and replacing her dress with pyjamas and going to bed and "Percy, I'm not (yawn) tired!" followed by a patter of footsteps back towards where she sits as she tucks herself between Annabeth and the couch to hide from her brother, giggling and in hysterics. The two of them - Percy and Annabeth, the formidable pair - turn to the mischievous kid and begin tickling her manically. They're all laughing as though they're mad and there's tears building in the corners of her eyes for the right reason for once.

It takes a long time to get her to bed but they're all smiling the whole time and she knows for sure that when Percy shuts the door to the spare room, Estelle will be out like a light.

They're back on the couch with Netflix on to fill the silence before they speak another word to one another. It's Percy that clears his throat first. "I'm sorry about Estelle. I think she missed you, but still, I'm sorry."

Her knees are tucked up to her chest - something her shrink would overanalyse into her subconsciously hiding from Percy which she would deny it to no end although she knows it's true - and she's staring at the television with such an intensity that her eyes are starting to feel sore. "It's okay, I don't mind." Annabeth lies. "It's my own fault. I ruined us and didn't even think about who else it affected."

"Please don't feel bad. You did it for yourself, that's allowed. I'm glad you were able to do what you needed to." Although she knows his words are sincere, they bring no comfort to her. Gods, she didn't deserve him. "But I'm also glad we're okay, that you're here now."

It would be so easy to fall back onto his shoulder and let herself rest there or to lean up and kiss his jaw and love him like she had - like she does. But it's been so long and he deserves so much better. The walls are back up so all she does instead is hum thoughtfully and reminisce about 'what if' and what could have been.

**DECEMBER**

The Blofis household is always at its liveliest come Christmastime, decked out in masses of tinsel and fairy lights. It's a stark contrast the the Christmas he was used to having at Estelle's age but he doesn't resent it at all, instead choosing to celebrate that his sister gets to experience so much joy in one place. Sally's dinners are always top quality but she really goes all out for Christmas dinner, organising various courses and platters to everyone's tastes and making sure she has plenty of blue cookies to top off their deserts. He tells himself that that's the reason why he can't let her miss out on this, not when the alternative is knowing she's sat in her apartment alone. And it's definitely not because he's desperate to see her again.

Percy had been somewhat of a mood hoover last year, moping over the loss of his long-term girlfriend. He'd been so certain that he was still in love with her then. Now, a year had passed and nothing had changed. In fact, Percy was certain that there hadn't been a single moment where he wasn't in love with her. Ten years and he was still certain she was a princess and that he was in love with her. She loved him and he loved her. Though he could be a little dense about it sometimes, he knew that much was true.

It feels like they're almost back to normal, glued together again. He watches as Annabeth dishes up the food with his mom, puts the world to right with Paul and entertains Estelle, all the while sending him soft smiles from across the room. Percy doesn't care what's under the tree, her smiling at him the way she used to is all the Christmas spirit he needs.

They unwrap the remaining gifts after dinner, Estelle already being halfway through hers from lack of patience. She dons her Santa hat and delivers the presents around the room, the four adults just content to watch her her grin with a matching smile of their own.

When it comes to unwrapping, he watches Annabeth carefully. He's always eager to see her happy, but there's something about the way her eyes light up, the way they reflect the soft twinkle from the Christmas tree decorations and the way they lock with his every so often. He risks appearing ungrateful for his own gifts by forgetting them entirely and if not for Estelle's desperation to know what was beneath each piece of wrapping paper, he might have left them unopened for the rest of the day.

He gets some unique kind of present from Grover, a handmade tin can crusher and a promise of a visit soon if he fills up a bag full of scraps for him to snack on. Rachel had sent both him and Annabeth small pieces of artwork, fitted and framed to sit on a counter somewhere in their apartments. Hazel and Frank had packaged up several sachets of his favorite coffee mix from the New Rome café, something he had deeply missed since his time as a student on the campus there. There's a haphazardly wrapped stuffed Nemo toy from Estelle and several small gifts from his parents of things he needs around the house as his mom had a tendency to encourage practical gifts.

The last one he opens is flat and rectangular, sealed in a decorative envelope with her loopy handwriting on the front, the handwriting he knows she only uses for special people and things because he's seen how long it takes her and how much focus it requires to be able to spell everything right and make her writing legible. When he's greeted with a blank piece of paper folded into thirds, he's not really sure what to expect. A poem is certainly not Annabeth's forte and a letter seems a bit out of the question judging by the plainness of what he can see through from the other side. Figuring he wouldn't guess correctly anyway, Percy thumbs at the corner and opens it up, eyes joined with hers from where she sits just beside him.

_This certificate acts as confirmation that the a star among the Phoenix constellation has been named as per your request._

_Bob, Damasen and Small Bob_

Her whisper sears through the silence. "Phoenix, for the unforgotten."

Most of his memories from down there were harrowing and tortured his mind continually, but this is the only part that remained untainted. Bob's kind heart and Damasen's actions had held consequences, good and bad. They had made it out at such an expense and none of them knew whether their immortal friends would be reborn in any state, let alone their most recent compassionate one. But they had promised they would be remembered. And here was the immortalised proof.

Tears burn his vision but he tries to get out a sentence before she finishes her premature apology.

"This is - gods, Annabeth - this is perfect. Thank you."

He thinks she must be smiling at him, though they're both hiccuping through their own watery eyes. On an impulse, he links their fingers together and squeezes.

The half-second they spend holding to one another like a lifeline is interrupted but Estelle's gleeful laugh at a new toy she'd just unwrapped, a horrifically lifelike doll that blinks every time it's made to lay down and apparently cries real tears.

(Percy doesn't see the appeal. He remembers his sister being that size and crying real tears is hardly much of a selling point, surely? Estelle loves it regardless.)

He doesn't get much of a chance to talk to Annabeth until later in the evening. They've sat through a Christmas movie and snacked on gifts of chocolates and cookies - although he loves his sister dearly, she doesn't make for great company when she's hyped up on as much sugar as Paul allows. It seems Annabeth had a similar plan to avoid the little monster as he did and they both make their way out to the fire escape, laying out a waterproof coat on the cold metal to act as some kind of cushion while avoiding patches of watermarks on their clothes.

With only the busy streets below as their soundtrack, Percy gathers up enough courage to shuffle a little closer to her and rest an arm across her shoulders. "Thank you for coming today. And for the gift. I've really enjoyed having you around again."

Annabeth closes a little more of the space between them by tilting her head to rest on his bicep. "Thanks for the invitation. If not for you then I'd be sat by myself right now probably working myself to death on a new building project." She doesn't have to say it outright but he hears what she's getting at, he's always been able to understand her. She means it for more than just today.

"I think I knew from the very beginning." His tone is light in an attempt to mask the depth of his words.

"Knew what?"

"About you. About us. I was just too dense to understand and then too cowardly to act on it."

In that moment, he hands her the opportunity to turn him down. She could tell him he had his chance, come up with some retort about how he missed out on getting to be with her. But she doesn't. She doesn't say anything. Her eyes drift from his lips and off to one side where a piece of mistletoe is trapped on the ledge of a shut window. Both of their faces flush with warmth.

If the electricity that passes between them when their lips meet is any indication, they're going to be okay.

**DECEMBER**

His sleep had been significantly less fitful in the last week, curtesy of Annabeth. They hadn't wanted to rush into anything but as soon as the pieces had fallen back into place, it was impossible for them to pretend they were anything less than each others.

New Years Eve is a quiet affair. The two of them are sat on the edge of his bed, her in one of his shirts and him in a pair of pyjama pants as they recover from making up for all the time that had slipped away. His apartment doesn't have a fire escape to watch the fireworks from and so his back window is the next best thing, the city centre within eyesight.

An evening with her was addictive. Annabeth's fingers had brushed across his bare skin, feather light and teasing as he told her about his plans to get another tattoo; the Phoenix constellation just over his tail bone. Though the sentiment was sweet, she had raised an eyebrow and one side of her smile, suggesting that she might get the Perseus constellation over the scar on her arm from when she was sixteen. He'd rolled his eyes, ignoring the thud of his heart reaching out to her through his ribcage. It was easy enough to get her to stop teasing when he could flip her over and kiss her senseless.

He was grateful that stuff like that was back on the table.

As the clock approaches midnight, the whole city seems to distantly chant a countdown. Through the open window, a breeze catches her hair making her look like an immortal image of beauty, royalty of the highest order and worthy of everything that he could offer. He watches as her features harden, her grey eyes stern and lips pulled together tightly.

"What are you thinking, Wise Girl?"

"Do you have a New Years resolution?"

Percy frowns. The idea hadn't exactly crossed his mind at all, he had been much too preoccupied with far more important things. "No, I don't think so." At his words, she nods slowly. "Why? Do you?"

There's something about the way she speaks, her voice low and tired, that makes him long to pull her to his chest and kiss her hair. Thankfully, he's able to do exactly that. "To be more open to the idea of saying 'yes'."

It's probably for the better that he didn't have the ring box on him else he might've had the impulse to pop the question there and then. To make up for it, he smiles into the kiss she offers and holds her tight.

She tells him in the early hours of the New Year that although it hurts, she had been glad for the time apart, having learnt where her own cracks lie instead of what was a consequence of their interwoven lives. It's better now that they're more whole. She can be what he needs her to be. They can be a support for one another and no longer a crutch that waits for the next time one of them fell from a height.

They lie on his bed, skin clammy and hair mused as she kisses his shoulder and murmurs against him. "Besides, absence makes the heart grow fonder."

Percy is oh so inclined to agree.


End file.
